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Hollyn bit her lip, imagining the scene. “Oh no.”
“It gets worse,” he warned. “I thought the audience was laughing so hard because I was doing such a good job. I didn’t notice the draftiness until I was well into the next scene. The theater manager ended up giving me a lecture about their nudity clause afterward, and I had to pay a fine. My group now refers to this as the Jasper Ass Tariff.”
She looked down at her lap and grinned. “Your group didn’t signal you that something had happened?”
“And break the scene and lose the laughs?” he asked. “Not a chance. Those bastards would’ve let it go on for ten scenes.”
“No mistakes in improv, right?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Your turn.”
She took a breath and picked at a loose thread in her jeans. “I don’t know what to say.”
“What about something when you were little? We all do embarrassing things as kids.”
She thought for a moment, her fingers naturally going into their four count. “Um, okay. When I was seven, I was cast as an angel in the church Christmas play. They told us that we couldn’t leave the stage no matter what. I guess they’d had problems with kids wandering back to their parents. I had to go to the bathroom but wanted to follow the rules. So, the whole performance I was basically twisting and squirming. Then when baby Jesus was brought out, instead of singing my part, I peed. In a white dress.”
Jasper chuckled. “That sounds like a failure on the adults’ parts, not yours. Was that the end of your days onstage?”
“No, that was before the tics. I bounced back from that one.” She looked to the ceiling, squinting at the memory, trying to remember how it feltnotto be afraid of people watching her. “The next year they made me a camel, though.”
“Ha.” His hand touched hers, making her startle, but then he tucked a piece of candy into her palm.
She relaxed her shoulders and popped the red Skittle into her mouth. “Your turn. How about something embarrassing aboutyouinstead of a story?”
Something to make you less sexy and adorable would be nice, please and thank you.
“All right, let’s see.” She could feel him shifting in his seat. “Oh, I’ve got one. I have a deep, secret love for boy-band music. Like an unironic love.”
Her thoughts skidded to a halt at that. “Hold up. Really?”
“Yep.”
She wanted to turn around to see his expression and determine if he was screwing with her, but she forced herself to stay facing forward. “Like a particular boy band?”
“Nah. I’m equal opportunity—old ones, new ones,” he said, tone casual as ever. “I met this girl in one of the group homes I lived in early on who told me that you can’t stay sad or angry listening to boy bands. She’d filched all these different CDs from the group home’s ancient collection, and we used to listen to them together. One Direction. NSYNC. Backstreet Boys. New Kids on the Block. I got kind of attached. The harmonies just do it for me. So soothing.” He shifted in his chair, making it squeak. “She was right, too. You really can’t stay in a bad mood listening to boy-band songs.”
Hollyn’s heart gave a little kick, imagining Jasper without a family, living in some group home, but her lips curved thinking of him belting out boy-band tunes. “That’s kind of an amazing one.”
“Thanks. I’ll eat a Skittle,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Now you. Tell me an embarrassing unironic love, Hollyn. Death metal? Reality TV? Gossip about British royals?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” She stared at the windows and pondered. “Not reality TV, but I do have an obsession with movies and television shows set in high school. Angsty ones. Funny ones. Cheesy ones. Over-the-top dramatic ones. It kind of doesn’t matter the type as long as they’re teens in high school.”
“Yeah?” He sounded delighted.
“Yep. My mom pulled me out of public school to homeschool me when I was in sixth grade, so high school still seems like this mythic, fictional place I needed to learn about in order to not be a complete alien. I studied those movies and TV shows like a detective.”
“Wow, so all you know about high school you learned in movies?”
“’Fraid so.”
He was quiet for a moment as if digesting that. “So do you think that all high school dances have synchronized dance numbers?”
“They don’t?” she asked with mock shock. “At least tell me everyone is involved in an angsty love triangle where one guy is the girl’s long-pining best friend.”
He laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. Most school dances involved a lot of standing around and…not dancing. And no love triangles that I know of.”
“Dream crusher.”
